10,009
by Just Call Me Sunshine
Summary: AU. Sam never died. Robert Neville never captured the girl with the butterfly tattoo, until four years after the first infection 1 yr movie. "We live from your sacrifice. You.. are such stuff dreams are made of. You made me dream again. Thank you." R&R.
1. Welcome Back

**Brief Explanations: Sam never died. She survived. Anna and Ethan came, but never found him, and they left for greener pastures. Robert Neville never captured the girl with the butterfly tattoo, and the alpha male never attacked his home. Four years after the first infection, Robert Neville caught the infected female with the butterfly tattoo. This is how things are were they different. Don't argue with my logic. Purely for entertainment value.  
**

**Chapter One: Welcome back.**

"Welcome back to the living."

What? It felt like I was coming up from being immersed in ice cold water for a long time. The words spoken were soft, far away, muted and muffled. I felt locked in a corner of my mind, as if someone threw away the key and I couldn't get out. I couldn't remember how long it was that I'd been in the black oblivion. Feeling slowly returned. My fingers, my entire body was thrumming. I could feel every cell as it sent sensory information back to my brain, telling me the texture of the solid beneath me, telling me what elements were present in the air, what scents were in the air. I could feel air particles bounce off my skin.

I could now feel my legs, my arms, my torso. My skin was mostly exposed to the air, with strips of cloth covering my other parts, perhaps to maintain my dignity. My mind didn't really linger on that, as with a sickening snap everything returned. Reeling, my body, not quite attached to my mind sent itself screaming across the room, smacking into some kind of see-through wall. It ducked into the corner and collapsed on the ground, curling its' limbs above and around itself. I could hear its' whimpers through muted ears. They were my whimpers. I could see myself staring at a black man in a white coat gazing at me gently with his hands out, palms facing me, his lips moving but I couldn't hear what he was saying. I could just hear my heart thumping, loud in my ears.

"You're alright." It was dull, muted, and I could barely make it out. He slowly approached, making sure his hands were in front of him for me to see. Hearing slowly returned, and eyesight stopped having red tinting the edges. He crouched down in front of me, and he slowly placed a hand on my heated skin. I looked at it, my breathing coming out in harsh gasps from between my open lips. He then placed his other hand on my arm, slowly moving them towards my face. Out of reflex my body moved away, shrinking into itself. "I won't hurt you," He said. And, yet, somehow, I didn't believe it. My body crawled away, scooting back as fast as possible. Everything was so sharp- the light, the sounds, the air. I could see the dust motes dancing in the air, I could taste them. I could smell the mint fresh on his breath. I could even smell the piece of meat caught on one of his back teeth. I could tell it was cow.

He was speaking again. "... Virus, and I just chanced on the appropriate formula. You were Infected for.. four years. You're the first major breakthrough in the cure. Do you have any itches, aches? Do you feel sick in any way? Do you have a need to eat raw meat?" My eyes glanced around the room quickly. I could see large steel tables, benches, with apparatus' on them I didn't know of. He shook his head and stood up, moving towards the see-through wall. He opened it and stepped through, shut it again and left completely, leaving me sitting alone in the corner. I stared.

When he came back I was lying down, hiding underneath the table I woke up on. He slowly opened the door, nudging it with his hip, and in wafted the most beautiful smell I'd ever tasted, in my few short minutes of life. My head jumped up to sniff the air and banged on the table. I slowly crawled out from under it, and he set down what appeared to be a plate with some food on it on the table. He had some cloth folded over his arm, but my mind was only intent on the food. My legs made myself upright so I could stare at the food.

"Could you sit up here?" My eyes switched to him quickly. He gestured to the table, and I could feel my head slowly tilt, unattached to my body in its movement. I wasn't controlling it. I was merely the viewer, it seemed. He moved to sit on it, and gestured for me to do the same. He sighed and slowly approached me, and as I reflexively stepped backwards he held his hands up and said, "I'm only trying to help you. Please."

I stared at him, before my eyes moved towards the food. It was enough of a distraction for him to be able to encroach upon me and lift me up from underneath my arms. Too shocked to move, I let him sit me upon the table. "There we go," He said, before nudging the platter with food over to me. He turned and began sifting through a small table filled with weird plastic things. I became distracted by the overpowering smell of food. I leaned over and tried eating it with my mouth, yet I couldn't get purchase on it. I quickly realized that using my hands were more efficient, and I could hear him chuckle in the background. Grasping the meat to my face I looked up at him. His eyes were on me, and he slowly moved forward.

"The food is a distraction. I need to take a look at you, okay? Don't be scared." He approached me, holding a syringe. I immediately tensed. A large black guy in a white coat looming over me? I needed a way out. But the see-through wall was closed. I couldn't get through, like the man could. "My name is Neville. Robert. I'm a doctor, I can help you. Just concentrate on the food, the needle won't hurt. I just need a little bit of blood."

Somehow, I felt my head move of its' own accord. It nodded. He moved slowly still, and I slowly bit into the meat. The flavor was _gorgeous_. I was in heaven just by sinking my teeth into it. He reached me and gently held my arm, sliding the metal into it. It took something, and I must've hissed or something because he looked up at me, studying my face. "Thanks." He said. My head tilted again. I swallowed, taking another large chunk out of the piece of meat. He moved away, doing something with his back turned to me. For an instance, I got a huge whiff of a copper tang. I could smell it permeate the air. It was so powerful it nearly made me sick. Again, I must've done something because he turned to me. "You can smell that?" He asked. He raised an eyebrow before slowly stepping out of the room, opening and locking the door as he went. I studied him closely this time, watching him as he moved around the room outside the see-through wall. I looked at the lock. I finished the meal, and I slowly moved off the desk. This time, however, I felt as if I was in control. I wanted to look at my hand. And, slowly, my hand rose to my face, and I could see the long, gangly fingers shake in front of my eyes. There was a pinch between my eyebrows, and I knew I was frowning. I moved towards the door, and mimicked his movements. Soon the door was open, with nary a sound and he didn't turn once. Leaving the door open I slowly moved towards him, my eyes intent upon his rather large and superior form.

He must've realized I was there. He turned to me with a slightly incredulous look on his face. "You could open the door?" He looked past me towards the see-through wall and shook his head. His lips tugged open at the corners. "That's a good sign." He patted my thin shoulder and turned back to whatever he was doing. A few seconds later and a sharp intake of breath made me on edge. He turned to look at me, something new in his eyes. Fear. I could smell it drip off him.

"You can smell it, can't you? The blood. Pumping in my veins. It calls to you, doesn't it?" He grabbed my hand and I jumped. He put it against the middle of his chest, and instantly I was enthralled. "You feel that. What does it make you want to do?" I watched him for a few moments, and, almost docilely I put my other hand where his was on him, between the two mounds on my chest. He then stared again, and then gazed back at the screen. He thought for a few moments before grabbing something on the counter and baring his arm to me. He sliced it against his arm and there was that smell again- copper. Tangy. Harsher this time, and it assailed my senses cruelly. I made a disgusted sound before staggering away, and this seemed to hearten him again. There was now a large grin spread across his face. "There is hope yet. Listen, I need to get some samples from you. Please, sit back on the table in there."

'Sit back on the table in there'. The last time he told me that he moved me to sit on some metallic bed thing, back in the room with the openable see-through wall. I moved back there and sat on the table as he requested, and his grin widened as he brought more equipment into the room. "Please, open your mouth."

My head tilted again. He then showed me, by opening his mouth. I mimicked that, too, and his eyes narrowed in that strange grin of his. He took something from his pocket, a small white stick with two fluffy things on the end. He put one end under my tongue, and removed it, before wiping the other end in my ear. My nose scrunched. He laughed, before placing the stick in a small container. He then took something that was hanging from around his neck, and shoved it in his ears. He grabbed something- which I realized was attached to it- and placed it up against the middle of my chest.

"Hmn. Slightly elevated heart rate." He looked me over for a few minutes, before asking, "Can you talk?" I stared at him. "You're sentient, I know that. Can you talk, can you say anything? Can you remember before you woke up here? Can you--"

--

_"--even HEAR me!? Chihiro Lee Winters, you have to be the most irritating, spoilt, selfish brat I've ever laid my eyes on! I can't believe I gave birth to a lazy cretin like you!" A girl was lying on the floor, sobbing. Her hands were bleeding heavily, the fingers held out at odd angles, broken. She had bruises over most of her body and she was bleeding from a wound on her head. She half sat, half lay in the ruins of a pottery set, with biscuits strewn in the tea soaking into the carpet, mingling with her blood. She sobbed, her eyes fixed on the TV screen sitting the corner. It was a bright and happy cartoon, nothing at all like what she was going through. Her eyes turned back to her mother standing above her, her hand raised. _

_It lowered in slow motion. The girls' arm raised up, and the broken fingers dug into the womans' arm so hard the woman screamed aloud. There was movement and two people ran in. Two boys, twins, holding each others arms. They moved towards her, but Chihiro was faster- she charged them both down, ripping into them with her teeth. All the while, in the background it could be heard- "We urge residents to remain indoors and not touch anyone. The infection has spread at an alarming rate and it is possible it has become airborne. Do not cut yourself, and we urge you all to find masks and breathe in as little as possible the contaminated air. Stock up on food, gas, essentials, and stay--"_

--

"--calm! It's okay!" His arms were around me. My head was buried in something warm, something thundering on the other side of it. A strangled cry left my throat. I felt something wet run down my face. Suddenly calm I touched it with my hand. I pulled back to look at him, and I let my fingers graze his cheek, letting him know that, yes, I was calm. He let out a quick breath, rubbing his hands up and down my arms. I shivered, slowly moving away. And, to my surprise, he let me. I slowly crawled to one of the corners, squeezing myself into the corner between the wall and the bench. He stood and began doing things. Things with the little white stick, looking at it through a scope.

I don't know how much time passed. I watched him as he moved around the room, talking loudly to nothing in an authoritive voice. "This subject has had a positive response to Serum 487, Compound 4. Body temperature was lowered to normal human temperatures. Upon brief inspection of the blood I found traces of an Aggressor- a compound that heightens anger responses and senses. I found this in the Infected, however hers is more subdued and upon inspection I found she was repelled by the smell of blood- typical human response. Her sight, smell, taste and touch senses are all heightened, however her tenancies towards flesh and blood have been greatly reduced. I'm currently running a diagnostic on all equipment before checking the saliva and earwax samples taken from the subject." He whipped something off his face before planting it down on the table. He turned towards me.

He studied me quietly, and in return I studied him. He turned back after whatever it was beeped at him, and he pulled his glasses back on. He continued talking as he fiddled with the white stick. "Subject broke down a few moments ago. Shaking, convulsing, signs of fatigue, all symptoms of shock. Physical inspection revealed girl is about 17 years old, of Asian descent. There are signs within the bones of abuse prior to infection. Hip has surgical scars, and many knife scars along subject back. However, the girl is-- hold it." He leant closer to the screen, his large black hands gripping the table. "These cells are different." He started tapping at something, and I raised my head, before standing, leaning onto the bench. "The DNA structure of these cells is different. They merge both Infected and Human cells with Serum 487." There was silence. "Checking the blood sample again." He didn't speak for a while, tapping at something again. "The blood is made up of several types of cells. Normal blood cells, normal white cells and a new cell. Labeling new cell "X-cell". X-cell appears to have the same effect of the White cell, however seem to be a lot more effective than White Cells. Estimated, about 3 times more X-cells than White cells. It doesn't seem to have an adverse effect on her, however. Subject appears quite docile, and sentient. Will investigate further the new cell, and any possible effect it may have on her. No other test-subject, including animal subjects have had this reaction to the Serum."

He moved about some more, and turned to look at me. "Understands basic language, however speech may be a little harder for subject to grasp." He slipped out of whatever character he was in and his eyes softened. "Will have to give her a name. Calling her 'subject' doesn't really apply anymore." He addressed me. "Do you have a name?"

My head tilted again.

"Subject probably has no memory of pre-infection. I guess 'subject' will have to do for now. Will keep an eye on her for a week. If nothing occurs will assume Serum is safe, and can start injecting it in other subjects captured." He once again whipped off his glasses, leaning over the bench tiredly. I slowly moved towards him, and towards the screen. It showed several blobs floating around, with various letters and numbers. Without thinking I reached up to touch the monitor with my fingers, and I slowly ran them across the various words scrolling across the black.

I turned back to the man, and watched him. He was leaning over the bench, tired, his eyes shut tight. He looked worried about something, his lips moving constantly. I could still hear what he was whispering. "If she doesn't regain any memories of her past life.. then.. will the others?" He looked up and watched as I moved closer to him. For some reason, I felt compelled to be next to him, to feel his warmth. My limbs moved of their own accord, moving to wrap around him. He chuckled slightly, the sound confusing me.

"You're consoling me?" He moved to hold my shoulders. "If anything I should be consoling you. No memory of your past life, no skills." He shook his head and led me back to the see-through wall room, and I sat down on the table, as I knew he'd tell me to. He smiled gently. "I'll bring down a few books for you to look at, it may, may not refresh your memory. We can only hope." He turned to leave, yet I grabbed his arm. He looked back at me. "You want to come? Hmn. I suppose it couldn't hurt." He gestured for me to step down, and I did. He picked something up, and I recalled it was like the same thing I was wearing. My hand automatically flew to the shredded cloth covering my torso.

"Yes, you're right." He grinned again, this time dazzling me with white teeth. My head tilted again. And then, I felt my own face try and emulate his. My lips tightened, before pulling back over my teeth. He stiffened slightly, before shaking his head and grinning broader. Why did he become cautious all of a sudden? "Smile looks good on you." He gestured to me. "Do you know how to undress and redress?" He shook his head. "No. Of course you don't. Ah.." He shifted uncomfortably again and my smile faded, dissolving into a concerned look. I touched his arm gently, and he forced out a smile, perhaps for my sake. My hands went to the cloth and placed them down on the table, before pulling the shredded ones that covered my body off. I could hear his heart steadily increase in pace, and I could tell most of that was going to his face. His cheeks got noticeably darker. Why? I reached a hand up to his cheeks, feeling heated under my hand.

He stuttered. "Sorry." Her quickly turned again, and I felt my jaw clench. I pulled the cloth he had gotten for me, quickly took the large thing that resembled the one that had been covering my torso (however much more complete) and pulled it on, trying to make it look like the shirt he was wearing underneath that large coat. It felt nice and warm. I hadn't noticed how cold I was. I rubbed my arms quickly before pulling on the bottom half to resemble his pants. I nudged his shoulder and he turned, and grinned at me. "So you _do_ know how to dress. Come, let's get you some more food. You must be starving." I followed him back out of the see-through wall room, my eyes on him constantly. Walking seemed easy, effortless. My body had learnt the motions of this long ago, and somewhere, some primitive part of my mind had retained it, even though all other memories had gone. My body had learnt many other things, and my mind still had some semblance of it all. He spoke to me just as we reached the door. "Whatever you do. Don't run. It won't be safe for you."

My head tilted again, and he shook his head with a chuckle. "It'd be hard for you to make it out the door anyway. Still--"

--

_--Their love was primal. They moved hard and fast, their hearts thundering to the call of the night. She pressed up against him, and he growled. He flipped her over with harsh hands and began to ride her, his movements harsh, both of them letting out growls and snarls of.. whatever it was, it wasn't pleasure. It was primal lust. She felt a bond to him, but that was because they had mated. They were mates, and that was what drew them together. His hands gripped her hips and they arched wildly into the other, before both screaming their--_

--

"Shh, shh, it's okay, it's okay." The man spoke slowly, calmly, holding me close to him once again. We were in a different room entirely now, and I was sitting on something very soft. I looked. It resembled something.. as if I had seen it before. I felt more in control of my body now. I gently patted him to get his attention, and I slowly sat up, wiping at my eyes to get rid of the pesky tears. "Are you alright?" He asked.

I heard the question before, once. Somewhere, somehow. I nodded, and I looked up to look around. The room was very tidy. Structured. There was nary a thing out of place. A sudden image of a girl crying on the floor of a crowded apartment filled my mind and nearly got me crying again. I groaned aloud slightly and grunted, patting him again.

He nodded, and moved away slightly. "Sam?" Something came rushing in and jumped up on whatever it was I was sitting on, and immediately, the smell got to me. It was gorgeous. It was the most beautiful smell I'd smelt, it seemed. I leaned closer to whatever it was and it leaned closer to me, licking my face with it's tongue. "Wow. She likes you. She's a dog, a canine. Friendly as they come. I'll get you some more food. My cooking isn't that crash hot, but anyway.." He then leaned in towards the dog (called Sam, perhaps?) and whispered in her ear. I could still hear it, quiet as it was.

"Keep an eye on her for me, will you? Make sure she doesn't do anything crazy." He turned back to me and smiled. "I'll put on a movie for you. You can watch as many as you want, whatever you want." He moved towards the large screen thing on the other side of the room. It resembled the one in that other room. He then rifled through something and then turned it on. He pressed a few buttons and very brightly coloured images began to play on the screen. He adjusted something and I could hear words being spoken. It was quiet, not too loud, not too quiet- however, to me, it was if it was being spoken right in my ear. I leaned back, and drew my legs up, my eyes locked on the black man. Sam, as it was called moved up beside me, placing its' head on my legs. I felt my lips stretch again in that.. smile I learnt off the man. Didn't he say his name? His name was.. Neville Robert. But that didn't sound right. Neville Robert? Nevert Robville? Nerob Vertville? Robert Neville, maybe? I watched as he left to the right, and he started doing something in another room. And then something else caught my attention. The screen was showing a small four legged animal that was brown- and rather irritating in its' appearance- and a towering green fat thing. It walked like us, and both of them spoke. If we were like the big green thing, and Sam was like the four legged thing... could she speak too, like the one on the screen did?

I nudged Sam with my hand. She looked at me with her brown eyes. My eyes narrowed slightly, and my eyebrows pinched together. I looked up at the green person on the screen and watched as he spoke. He used his mouth- so did Neville. Could.. I? I opened my own mouth and let out a noise. It didn't sound like anything they said, though. It sounded more like a grunt.. They moved their lips, though. I tried to move my lips. Didn't work. A frown settled on my face. I watched as the green person spoke, and listened to what he said.

"Ogres are not like cakes." It said.

I turned to look at Sam, and opened my mouth. I imitated how his lips moved, and then I tried to make me sound like the person on the screen did.

"O'res are n't like.. cakes." It came out in rasps, but it was enough to surprise both myself and Sam. I could hear something crash in the other room, and the person who seemed to be helping me came racing back into the room. His eyes were focused on me, wide and surprised. He moved over quickly, sitting next to me on the black leather couch.

"You can speak..?" His voice trailed off, and my head tilted slightly. Was that speech? Yes. Somehow, I knew it was speech. "Can you say it again?" He asked. My head tilted further.

"Ogres are not like cakes." He motioned to me gently. He wanted me to say it again. At least, I thought.

I said it slower this time, trying to copy the movement of his lips precisely, aiming for the sound he made. It worked slightly better this time. "Ogres.. are.. nu'ut.. 'ike 'akes." A grin spread across his face as I copied it. My voice was not like his at all. His was very smooth and velvety, deep and low. Mine was almost high and shrill, raspy.

It felt as if I hadn't spoken in years. What had I said, though? I merely copied the green person on the screen. Some part of me recognized it, because it felt familiar, but I didn't even understand what the word 'Ogre' meant. He patted my shoulder, a grin still large on his face. I could see something in his eyes. The look of someone who had just found hope, something to believe in. A frown set into my face, and I nudged his shoulder with my hand, before standing. No longer interested in the images on the screen I moved towards the room he was previously in, looking at the plastic platter on the floor. Instantly, an image played through my mind of him dropping it, staring up towards the room I knew I had been sitting moments ago. I felt myself walk around the room, looking at various things, items that littered the counters. I placed my hands on one of the counters, and ran my fingers over it, feeling the texture.

"That's a counter," I heard him say. "You make food on it. You still hungry? I'll make you something." My head tilted again. I bet he was growing rather annoyed at that, but I couldn't think of anything else to show him that, yes, I was quite hungry. But most of all tired. And, insatiable in something. I wanted something, deeply, yet, I couldn't remember what. I moved out of the way and he began moving about again, fixing the platter and walking to the large metal cupboard. "This is a fridge," He said loudly. My head tilted again. "It cools things down by expelling heat from the inside."

I watched him for a while longer, moving slowly towards the round table and chairs before sitting down in one of them. I pulled my legs up and hugged them close to me as I watched him move about. He moved very rigidly, and watching him I felt.. sadness. He was doing all of these things, moving, talking, remembering.. What I wouldn't give to be able to remember. Images of a girl lying in a pool of blood swam to my mind, and I flinched. Was that.. No, it was. I had a sense of familiarity about the person- that was me. And I was crying loudly. Screaming for my mother, for my father, for Akira-sensei. Akira-sensei? In my shock, I suddenly realized that I was on the floor curled up into a corner again, loud shrieks coming from my throat, garbled noises escaping my quivering lips. And then, no. That couldn't possibly be me that I saw. She had hair, she moved as if she owned herself. She was her own person. She couldn't be me. Muted, I heard someone calling to me.

"It's okay, it's okay! You're safe, I'm not going to hurt you!" My heart thundered in my ears, and my chest was wracked with sobs. "Calm down, it's okay. You're safe." There was a primal scream heard, detached, and yet somehow I knew it was coming from my body. And then, not of my own accord, my body flew at the man who called himself Neville Robert, sending both him and myself crashing into the table.


	2. Restraint

**Chapter Two: Restraint**

When I first became aware once more, I was lying down. Like I was when I first woke. My body was tired, dull. I couldn't feel the light play on my fingertips. I felt a dull buzzing, followed by a soft beeping. I forced my eyes open, to take in the surroundings.

I was back in the room with the see-through wall. I was lying on the table I first woke up upon. And as I tried to move, I found myself strapped to the table. I craned my head, to look, and the black man moved towards me calmly. He bore a scratch along his eyebrow. It was small, superficial. I turned to the ache in my shoulder and gazed upon a large bright purple bruise, which covered the entirety of my left shoulder.

"You're awake." He muttered. He moved to stand beside my head and look down into my eyes. I watched him warily. "You kind of lost it." I tried to raise my arm, but still, it would not move. "I had to sedate and restrain you. I just wish I knew what went wrong." He sighed and rubbed at his eyes with his fingers. I tried to raise my hand again to pat him, but, again, I couldn't move. I was beginning to hate those restraints. I tried to move again, this time trying to sit up. He shook his head. So, he wouldn't let me up?

"I'm sorry. I can't risk having you attack me or Sam again until I figure out what happened to cause your little.. thing."

For some reason, my vision became blurred. I couldn't see as well anymore, and I blinked hard, trying to clear it. I felt a small pressure on my face and I realized he was touching it, his hand moving towards my eyes. He wiped under my eyes and whispered something, but I couldn't tell what it was. I couldn't breathe properly, my chest constricting itself, although I didn't know why. And then, all of a sudden, my body started moving of its' own, trying desperately to free itself. I could hear something, not quite human, and not quite sane screeching for release. I realized then that it was me.

It hurt. I couldn't explain it, lying there restrained onto the table hurt, physically, even though nothing was cutting into my skin. Then, why did I feel this immense hurt?

"No, no, stop!" His arms were on mine again. "I can't let you go, so stop moving!" He moved away as if burned and I realized that I had reached up and bitten him, even though I couldn't rightly remember having done so. Or even have the thought to do so. He backed away, moving through the see-through wall, my screeches growing louder. The wall shut again, and he was on the other side. And then, he wasn't there at all, his coat whipping around the corner as he left.

I don't know how much time had passed. But, after what felt like a few seconds of waiting, he returned. He glanced at me before frowning slightly. I realized that after all that time my body was still struggling, trying hopelessly to get free. But, I didn't know why. I felt no emotion, nothing to indicate why I would hate being tied down. Nothing at all--

--

-- _A male pressed up harshly behind her, leaning forward and breathing harshly in her ear. She turned around, snarling, and he grabbed her arms, pushing them high over her head. He let out a growl and she gnashed her teeth at him. With his free __hand he ran his scarred grey hand over her skin, pulling at the cloth that covered her chest from him and exposing it to the night air. She hissed and he growled again, bending his head to bury it in her breasts. She stiffened and raised a leg, kicking him harshly, to which he responded with a backhand so hard she was knocked to the ground. She screeched at him, and he roared back, ripping at the cloth that covered him before pouncing on his prey, tearing at hers and pulling her arms up above her head, his knees locking her legs down. She screeched and he grunted, intent on having this pathetic female under him. As soon as he entered her, however, she let loose a guttural scream, knocking him clean off of her, swiping at his face. She fled, knocking into a pile of boxes behind her. She fell, the beast having some resemblance of a human as it sobbed. _

_The male that tried to attack her looked up, and watched her, his gaze softening. His eyes roamed over the females small body, and eyed a butterfly tattoo on her back. He listened to the females crying before slowly approaching her, crouched lightly. He touched her arm and she--_

_--_

I was free.

I was in the corner of the see-through wall room again, and my arms were over my head. My body was shaking- I could feel it. I couldn't hear the man in the room at all- he simply wasn't there. I could only hear my heartbeat thundering loudly within the room, echoing and bouncing off the walls. After a few moments I forced my body to look up, my eyes scouring the room. As I expected, he wasn't there. He'd gone, and left me, free, not restrained. I let out a short, strained huff, before crawling on my hands and knees across the floor to lie under the table. I didn't move. I held my hand out away from my body and looked at it's pale colour. It was very white, very thin. The knuckles raised out high against the skin. The fingers were thin, and the fingertips bore sharp nails. I began chewing them off.

Why was I free? I realized that I had ripped the bonds from me, and had vaulted over the bed. At which point Neville Robert had quickly moved out of the door, locking it, bolting it.

A sharp noise brought me back to the world. The sound of a door being unlocked. I looked up, banging my head once more on the table. Growling, I moved out from underneath the table, watching Neville Robert warily. He sighed and rubbed at his eyes with his fingers. "I need to conduct some more tests." He said. My head tilted again and he sighed, again. He motioned towards the table, and, narrowing my eyes I slowly moved to sit upon it. He pulled a table towards us, and, slowly he raised an instrument up to my eye. After a few moments of looking through it, he began to talk, not to me, though. To no one in particular.

"Subject has no pigmentation. Eyes are a deep red. Going against regular science she doesn't appear to be blind. Infact her eyesight appears to be better than a regular humans. Her pupils react well to light. They expand and constrict with incredible reaction to the light, far beyond human standards. Suggests cure is not complete." He frowned slightly and bit his lip. He shook his head before taking the instrument away, pulling the same one he put up against the middle of my chest and pushing it into his ears again. He placed it against the same spot, and started talking again. "Heart rate is indeed accelerated, however has begun to return to a normal pace. Heart is quite strong, no falterings." He took this instrument out of his ears and let it hang about his neck. He stood back and watched me for a few moments. "Subject has no hair, but it's too early to tell whether it will grow back. Something sets subject off at particular intervals, sending her into a state of fear and on occasion aggression. Curious as to reason." He crossed his arms infront of his chest.

"Trying to decide whether it is safe to let her out again. She has attacked me once, but the wounds were superficial. Appears she has bitten her fingernails off. Possible guilt reaction." He sighed. "Will you.. not attack me if I let you out of here? You can go back upstairs." Again, I felt my head tilt. He sighed and pointed upwards and I looked up, towards the ceiling. I frowned, before looking back down and staring at him. Who was this idiot? Pointing at things. With a raised eyebrow I moved from off the table and slowly stalked out of the see-through wall room. Yet.. As I moved along the border, from one room to the next, I could hear a word. 'Plexi-glass'. It was a plexi-glass screen. I shook my head and moved along with Neville Robert back up the stairs. I was almost afraid that I'd lose it again- that I'd.. do whatever I did to him.

But it didn't happen. We got up the stairs and into whatever it was without anything happening. I must've made some kind of noise because he turned to me. "This is the house. Do you know what house is? Can..? You know what, sit down." He placed his hand on the back of my shoulder and slowly moved me towards the couch, which I had sat upon earlier. The screen was dark now. The room was lighter than it was before, and a quick glance out the gap in the wall showed the large yellow glowing thing (which I somehow knew as a sun) was in the middle of the sky. I sat down, knowing that he'd want me to do so, and he followed.

"Copy for me, please. 'House'." He whispered. My head tilted again. "Copy. Means to repeat. Copy." He gestured to himself, and then to me, saying the word again. I frowned again. He sighed, shaking his head. "House." He gestured to me, and I felt my eyes narrow.

He sighed and rubbed his hands over his close-shaven head, leaning back into the couch for a few moments. We heard a rather loud beeping noise, that pierced right into my ears. He grabbed at something on his wrist and it stopped. "Listen. I'll just put a movie on for you to watch, Sam will keep you company. I've got somewhere to be. When I get back, I will take you back downstairs to sleep. Okay?" I frowned, but watched as he stood up and moved around. "I wonder what movie she'd like." I could hear him mutter. After a few moments he must have found something, because the screen was turned on and was playing something. He came back towards me, and called for Sam. She was immediately by our side. "This is Snow White. Not too scary." He grimaced, before heading back to an area I hadn't seen. I listened as his walking made the floorboards creak, and listened as he fiddled with things before opening a door. There was some movement, and the door closed again.

I turned back to the screen slowly, eyebrows raised. The pictures were, frankly, quite boring. After a few seconds I felt myself stand up, and move back into the room that held the table and the 'counters' as Neville Robert called them. This was the room he said he'd 'fix me something to eat' in. I frowned, my eyes roaming the counter tops. My throat was parched, and I realized suddenly that I was thirsty. But there didn't seem to be anything I could drink that was easily accessible. A frown becoming a common feature on my face now, I moved towards the counter and placed my hands down on it, feeling the smooth texture. It didn't take long until my eyes spied a small container, filled with an orange liquid. I licked my lips. It had a label around it, depicting an orange- whatever that was. I moved up towards it and grasped it with suddenly shaking hands. Lifting it was easy. It was as light as a feather, but, when I put it to my lips, I couldn't get to the liquid inside. A short growl later and I tried biting into the plastic container, yet, my teeth were ineffective against the material. Setting it back down on the counter I sighed, and gazed at it thoughtfully. When no answers came to me, I grabbed it angrily, heaving it above my head to bring it crashing down onto the counter. It.. exploded, the orange liquid spilling out and all over the floor. I dropped the remains of the container quickly, and began licking the floor, attempting to drink the the juice. It tasted quite nice, leaving me hungry for more. I felt a tugging on the back of my shirt and I looked back. Sam had my shirt in her teeth, pulling at it. I frowned, but let her pull me slowly back to the room where the screen flashed images constantly. The music was nice, but the singing was quite.. shrill. To my ears.

She licked my cheek, and I felt myself frown again. I didn't understand that. She sat back up onto the couch and I followed, half sitting, half lying down beside her, copying her as she sat. She curled up close to me, and I curled up close to her in return. I didn't pay much attention to the screen, my eyes on Sam. My hands were fisted in her fur, my face partly smooshed into the soft fur. She smelt beautiful. And whatever it was I couldn't get enough of, so I buried my nose into her fur. It wasn't long until I heard the sound of a door being opened, and then various noises indicative of putting things away.

"You there?" He called, and I slowly raised my head. After a few moments I lowered it again, gently nuzzling the asleep Sam with my face before standing. I stretched, and turned back towards the area that Neville Robert disappeared into before. There was a staircase, and I slowly leaned over the edge, looking down. The height was slightly disorientating, so I gently began to move down the stairs. He must've heard me come down, because I heard him breathe a sigh of relief. When I reached him, he was holding a bag in his right hand, letting it drag on the floor. He looked tired. Frowning slightly, I moved towards him and took the bag from his hands, pulling it up into my arms. He grinned, shook his head and patted mine, before moving back up the stairs, motioning for me to follow. As I followed I watched him. He moved like a Predator, but he did not behave at all like one. Contrary to what he looked like, Neville Robert was very.. gentle. Kind. To me.

I followed him into the room in which I had left the orange juice mess. He gazed at the orange puddle on the floor and sighed. "You tried opening the orange juice?" He picked up the broken container and I placed the bag I took from him on the table. "You don't even know how to do that?" He rubbed his eyes again tiredly with his fingers. I copied him and he let out a slightly forced chuckle. He turned to me and held the container so I could see it and showed me the blue plastic on the top. "This is a cap. You use it to open it, okay?" He showed me by twisting it and popping it open. I breathed out. As easy as that? "Breaking it on the floor I doubt will help anything. Here, you try." He screw the lid back on and handed it to me. Squinting at it, I copied his movements, my fingers turning out to be clumsy, shaking whenever they had to do something that required me to use them. After a few minutes of trying I got the cap off, and he grinned.

"That's great. See? Easy as that." He patted me gently on the shoulder before moving quickly about to clean the mess I had made. Curious about the bag, I grabbed at it and gently tugged at it, before finding out that I could pull it open with a brief tug of my hand on a certain cord. Opening it, I found large yellow and green things (Corn, so it was). I slowly began extricating them, pulling them out and putting them on the table, in a row. Looking at them, I 'counted' them, placing a finger on each one before standing back and staring at them. Out of.. boredom, I suppose, I pushed a few around and entertained myself by making the corn look stupid.

Then, looking at it, I realized something. With a quick movement, the corn now spelt two words- words that I saw before. But I couldn't remember where. "Snow White?" He read it for me, turning to me curiously. "You can read?" I gazed up at him stupidly. "Hmn." He pushed the corn around slowly and wrote something else with it, and staring, I shook my head. So far, we had gotten an understanding. Shake of the had meant 'No, didn't understand that, sorry', nod of the head meant 'yeah, understood that' or 'Yes, i'll have that', and a tilt of the head meant 'huh?'. Even I didn't understand this system. I was glad that at least one of us did.

"Hmn." He shrugged, before nudging me back towards the room with the screen, saying, "You should wait, food will be a while. Won't be that good, though." I patted his arm gently and shook my head, before sitting down next to Sam, burying my face again in her fur. I didn't know how much time had passed. I raised my head when I heard crackling, and Sam sniffed the air. I copied her, and I felt my head tilt. I buried it back into her fur and watched the screen, barely thinking of anything at all.

The dwarves on the screen were dancing. Not that I knew what a dwarf was, but it still looked funny. I felt a light chuckle breeze out of my throat- like the one I heard Neville Robert do. It was short, rather raspy and slightly disgusting. Like there was too much fluid in my throat.

"Hmn?" I heard from the other room. "What're you finding so funny?" Another soft chuckle. I watched as he poked his head back into the room, an eyebrow raised. I watched him for a few moments, before slowly standing up. I moved slowly over towards him, and he smiled, wryly amused by whatever it was that I was doing. I shook my head at him and sat down in the chair at the table, resting my arms on it, holding my head up with my hands. He moved back to cooking. A click of my teeth, and Sam came up beside me, looking up at me. I looked down at her with a slightly bewildered look on my face, before running my hands through her fur.

"You getting any memories back?" He asked presently, and I stared dumbly at him. Again. "Do you think if I asked you what two plus two was you'd give me an answer?"

He chuckled lightly and I copied it, which, somehow, made him laugh instead of chuckle. He stirred something, and began scooping at it. I grunted, and he again chuckled. "Copy this. You remember copy, right? Repeat. Copy. Do as I do. 'Hello'."

I frowned and grunted again. "No, not a grunt," He sighed. "Hello. Say 'hello'. I know you can do it." He grabbed some tongs and started shifting something from one plate to another. "Hello. Go on."

I frowned again, before standing, moving towards him. His lips moved.. but I could never get my lips to move like that. I ran my fingers over them, and grunted. He must've gotten the picture because he turned to me and whispered into my fingers the word he was trying to teach me. "Hello.."

I frowned, and he said it again. I put my hand up against my own lips and tried copying the movement. After a few moments, I dredged up the courage to make the sound, "Hewwo."

He chuckled, and I stared up at him. "Close, close. Food's ready." He grabbed the plates and shushed me over back to my seat, and placed the plate infront of me. I stared at it, and I listened to him laugh, low, deep, resonant. I glanced up at him and he began chewing on a stringy meat, his deep brown eyes on me. I looked back down to my plate and gazed at what he'd given me. It looked gorgeous- no matter what he said.

"That stringy stuff is bacon." He said. I looked up. "I was saving it for a special occasion. Here it is. Eat up." He grinned and I grinned back, before picking some 'bacon' up and chewing on it as he did. It was gorgeous. It bore a beautiful, crisp flavor. He began speaking to me about nonsense. And I watched him curiously.

"I wonder if you even understand what I'm saying. I'm a bit curious. So far everything has pointed towards you not even knowing how to talk. You probably don't remember anything of your past life, Infected or otherwise." He sighed. "You're my first success, you know that? You're my symbol of hope for humanity. If you can be cured, then.. well, everyone else can. We'll wait a week and see, alright? In that time I want you to learn everything you can." He smiled gently. "Hello." He munched on some bacon for a few moments. "Hello. Go on, try and do that. Hello." He opened his mouth wide and said it again. I copied his movements as he seemed to want me to do, and tilted my head. "Go on, say it. Hello."

I shook my head. "Use your tongue. See, this is your tongue." He opened his mouth and poked something out at me. A slimy pink organ. I frowned, and stuck mine out at him. "Yes, that's it. Now, use your tongue to make an 'l' sound. Like this." He made a long drawn out sound that sounded more like a moan, and I realised I'd done something like it before. Before Sam came to the table I made a sound using my tongue and teeth. I copied and he grinned. I finished the last of my bacon and he shook his head. "Ravenous aren't you?" I watched him, my eyes wide. "Alright. Now, say 'Hello'. Remember the 'l' sound."

I stared at him for a few moments, before lowering my head. There was no way I'd be able to do it.

"Come on. I promise you, it's easy. Try it." He motioned to me again. I sighed and straightened myself. I took a deep breath in through my nose.

"He.. Hel..lo. Hello." His face erupted into a grin and I felt my head tilt. I decided I didn't much like the sound of my voice. It was harsh and raspy, not at all smooth and elegant. I watched as he stood and picked up both the plates and moved towards the sink, washing them with his back turned to me. He started talking again.

"Hello is a greeting. When we see each other we usually say hello, or, hey, or hi." He turned back around towards me and watched me for a few moments. "I'm just hoping you'll survive longer than a few days so you can learn this all again. I'm hoping you'll get your memories back." He rubbed his forehead for a few moments. He checked something on his arm before turning to me. "Alright, it's getting close to night time. Your room for now is back in the lab, alright? That's where you'll sleep." He came towards me and gently pulled at my arm. I stood and followed him, and we moved through the rooms back to the door that led to a staircase which in turn led to the room I had woken up in.

Sighing, I moved ahead of him into the plexi-glass room, my eyes on him. He sighed and rubbed his head. "I know it isn't very comfortable, but I'd rather not risk you possibly attacking me in the middle of the night." I lowered my head and sat on the metal table, watching him as he moved about, taking a few items from a cupboard. He turned to me, holding them in his arms. "This is a pillow, you rest your head on it to sleep. And here's a blanket to keep you warm." He set the pillow down on the table and unfolded the blanket, lying it over my legs which were folded up underneath my body. "You'll be safe in here." I tilted my head, gazing at him, and he shook his. I took his hand and held it and he smiled gently.

"Good night." He whispered. He moved away, closing the plexi-glass wall and this time locking it, with a key. I watched him as he turned off the lights, a soft blue hue coming to attack the room in the absence of light. I sighed and laid down, resting my head on the pillow, which was quite comfortable. I lay on my side, watching the shadows move slowly. I could hear upstairs the sound of metal grinding shut, and I could hear as my protector moved around. About half an hour later the sound upstairs stopped.

And shortly after that, the other sounds began.

--

It had been the twelfth time I had woken up.

I had counted, but not really understood the numbers. I just knew that I had woken up a total of twelve times, my skin crawling. My body was drenched in sweat, and even though I didn't realise what was happening outside I still felt sick and cold. I quickly pulled myself up from the table and went to the plexi-glass wall, intent on opening it. I undid the clasp, and as I tried to pull it open I realised that I needed something else to get through. I frowned. He locked the wall. A sharp piercing scream brought me back to reality and, like a frightened animal I cried out and hid myself under the table.

I felt something wet touch my face, and I slowly raised a hand to feel it. I pulled my hand away and saw it glistening with my tears. I was crying. I brought my hand to my lips and licked at the liquid, the saltiness oddly comforting. I could cry.

I twined my fingers in the shirt I was wearing. It was black, made of a very smooth yet warm material. I wasn't cold at all. The pants were more like shorts, ¾ down my leg where it clung to the muscle there. I looked at my legs and watched idly as I flexed the muscle. My legs were horrendously well muscled and toned. And looking, so were my arms. I pulled the material of my shirt up and ran my hands over my stomach. There were scars all over it, bite marks, claw marks, and other scars that I had no idea were from. But the muscles were well toned here, too. Even though I was deathly thin and gangly I was well muscled. My hands traveled upwards to the two mounds on my chest. Neville Robert didn't have these two mounds. Where I was slight he was broad, and he didn't have these two mounds on his chest. And even if he did, they were well muscled ones. The ones on mine were flabby. I gently touched it, and as soon as my finger came into contact with the mounds, I could hear grunting, loud and in my ears. I could feel someone pressing into my back, and fast hurried movement, even though I was sitting still. I jumped, knocking my head on the table again. I looked behind me, yet no one was there. The sound and feeling had gone, but the phantom of it remained.

I reached up and pulled the pillow and blanket down from the bed, pulling the blanket around my shoulders, placing the pillow down. I sunk down on it again, and pulled my hands over my ears. I didn't want to hear the screaming anymore.

--

"Hey. Wake up. It's morning."

I opened my eyes slowly and yawned. Neville Robert was kneeling down beside me, his hand on my shoulder. He frowned at me and I winced, looking down. The sounds were so frightening. I could hear them from here. Even through the plexi-glass wall, even through the many doors and walls I could still hear the screams.

"Are you alright?" He said, and I watched him idly. He gently pulled my arm and I forced myself to crawl out and stand, staggering slowly. I clutched the blanket closer and watched him out of the corner of my eye.

"I started a bath for you. Not sure if you know what to do." He jerked his head in the direction of the staircase and we moved slowly towards the house proper, discarding the blanket on the way. The house looked as it had yesterday, yet there were screams and howls throughout the whole of the night. I looked over at my protector and wondered- did he hear the screams? He led me up a few more stairs and into another room with a large bathtub beside a window, filled with steaming water.

"It might be a little hot for you, so.." He coughed and rubbed the back of his head. "Here's the body wash. Not sure what shampoo and conditioner will do for you." I frowned at him. "Body wash." He mimed taking some from the bottle and whiping it over himself, under his armpits and down his legs, his neck. I stared at him, before looking at the bath. "There's some new clothes over there, alright? Don't wear these ones again." He tugged gently on the black shirt I was wearing and I nodded. Somehow, I understood that. He nodded, and we exchanged a brief glance before he left with a, "I'll start breakfast," to me.

And then he was gone, having left quite quickly as if he'd rather be elsewhere. Why, I wonder. I looked back towards the tub and lifted the shirt over my head, letting it fall to the floor with a soft 'floof'. My pants shortly followed and I slowly stepped into the tub, lowering myself into the water until I was nearly submerged. I knew out of instinct that to lower my head under the water would require for me to hold my breath. And since I was still half asleep I wasn't much keen on doing that. The hot water was relief against my aching muscles, which were knotted and held tight by fear. As they slowly began to unwind, I grabbed the bottle that my protector had called the 'bodywash', and emptied a bit into my hand, as he had shown me. With this, I began to wash myself, following the exact same sequence as he did. Chest, stomach, legs, feet, armpits, neck. When that was finished I let myself soak for a few minutes longer before standing, and moving out of the tub I shook myself harshly to rid myself of the water.. I moved to the clothes he said he left for me and began to pull them on.

The shirt was a soft green v-neck with short arms. The pants were light blue jean shorts, and both hung loosely on my body. Without even thinking I did the clasp on the jeans, and confused I stared at my hands, wondering where that motion had come from.

I turned away from the tub and looked straight into a mirror- the reflective surface startling me slightly. The girl who was looking back at me was gaunt, her red eyes sunken in. She was actually quite tall, yet short when compared to my protector. She was sickly thin, and at the same time well muscled- enough to be afraid of her. Her head bore no hair- not so much as a small tuft- and I could see many scars adorning her skull and arms. Her face also had it's share of scars. One of them was just over the ridge of her eyebrow, running along down it to the corner of her right eye. Another was over her lip, disfiguring it. I frowned, staring at the girl who stared right back at me in a staring contest neither of us had a hope of winning. As I looked at myself, I remembered something, and I slowly moved towards the mirror, pulling at the sleeve of my shirt to lift it up. Sure enough there was the sickly purple bruise that I tried so hard to ignore. It covered the entirety of my shoulder, and part of my chest.

Shaking my head, I turned away from the mirror and picked up the clothes I had worn the previous day, taking them with me out the door. I went back down the stairs, to the room which had the large screen which ajoined with the kitchen, where I knew my protector was, based on the smell of the food- eggs and toast- and him lightly singing.

"Don't worry. 'Bout a thing.." He softly sang, and as I listened closer I could hear the soft tinging of headphones. I placed the dirty clothes on the lounge and moved into the room Neville Robert was, gently patting Sam on the head as I sat down in the seat I had sat in previously. As if sensing me, my protector turned around- and upon seeing me lightly smiled and pulled his headphones out of his ears. "Hello."

"Hello." Even though I was shocked at what I had said-my voice was still a little raspy and I had done it without thought- it mustn't have shown on my face. There was an odd look of pride on his, however, and I tilted my head in the mannerism that I had gained which meant that I knew nothing. He laughed and turned back to what he was previously doing, attacking something with a large spatula. I leaned back in the chair, my hands resting neutrally on my thighs.

"You look better." I lowered my head, my hand rising up to run along the hairless scalp. He was scooping something onto some plates now. I knew breakfast wouldn't be long, and in reply my stomach growled loudly. I stared down at it. What a curious sound.

Breakfast was interesting. I hadn't tasted egg before, and it was very fluffy, like eating small pillows. My protector wouldn't let me eat with my hands and tried to teach me how to use a fork- which went quite well, all things considered. I didn't grip the fork quite right, but I knew enough now to use it without stabbing myself in the eye. The first few attempts of using it ended up with me poking myself in the face several times with it, my protector choking on his egg as he laughed, and me glaring at him. It took several goes, but finally, I could maneuver the fork and eat from it without looking like a total idiot.

For the first time since I'd woken that first time, with no memory of anything at all except the basics- walking, breathing, eating- I felt normal. It was a relatively normal breakfast. Sitting now on the couch, I watched as Neville Robert and Sam ran on the spot on a large machine. A 'treadmill' he had called it. This went on for about an hour before they both stopped, my protector agilely climbing off the machine, Sam slowly clambering off. I held a towel in my hands, which he had given me two hours ago for me to hold, saying to me, "Take this. Give it to me when I've finished. It's a towel. For the sweat."

I could see why. He was drenched in it. I handed him the towel and he began to wipe himself down, dabbing at his forehead and his neck as he moved towards the kitchen again. I heard something being opened and slammed shut again, and I could see him holding a bottle of water, taking large gulps from it. His watch beeped again and I eyed him out of the corner of my eye.

"I have to go." He said to me from his place in the doorway. "Want me to put on a movie?" I stared at him dumbly. He shrugged and moved back into the room, checking through a list of things. "Here, this should help." He knelt in front of me, holding a case up for me to see. "This is Sesame street, alright? Very basic, very easy to understand. First episode aired. I think it's got something to do about reading in it." He shrugged and moved to do whatever he did with it, and I slowly fixed myself so I was slightly more comfortable. "Sam's going to be coming with me today, I hope you don't mind. Don't go breaking anything, and if you want a drink.. Come with me, I'll show you." He gestured for me to follow him and I did, idly listening to the music that was now coming from the 'idiot box' as he called it. We moved through the kitchen towards a large white thing, and he opened it. "This is called a fridge. Holds food, water, keeps it all cool. Fridge, okay?" He pointed at it and said it again. "Fridge. Here's the water." He pointed to some bottles in the door of the fridge and took one out. "Now, you open the same you do an orange juice container." He unscrewed the lid, redid it and handed it to me to repeat, which I did. He grinned. "Good. So, you know where they are?"

His watch beeped at him again, and he nodded. "Just missed my bath." He shrugged and placed the bottle back into the fridge, and shut it. He placed his hands on my shoulders and looked me deep in the eyes. "Prove to me that you aren't an animal. That you won't go crazy. If you feel anything go wrong, feel sick, anything, go downstairs. Alright? Lock yourself in the lab, you know how to do it. I'll be back in a few hours. I'm sure you can do this." He said, and he patted me gently. He flounced away quickly after that, and I stood there leaning on the door of the fridge with my eyes on the couch, staring at it with a lack of anything else to concentrate on. I could hear him as he dressed, as he readied himself for whatever he was going to do, before I heard him call for Sam, opening the door. Then, after a few steps and the patter of dog feet, they were gone, and I was left alone.

I sighed and moved towards the 'idiot box' room, sitting myself down on the couch where he had told me to sit. The 'idiot box' was showing a yellow bird, talking to whoever was watching. I realized it was me.

"_We're going to do some reading today, kids! With us today we have Toby Peterson, five years old, and he's going to read 'Three little pigs' for us today! Isn't that exciting?"_

I sighed, and shook my head, watching the bright yellow bird with slightly pained eyes, even though I hadn't the faintest idea why. I stood up, and moved back up the stairs. I had the time now to be able to look around. And who knew, I might find something.

I walked slowly, my hand on the wall feeling the texture. It was smooth, cool, passive, impersonal. I walked along the hall until I came up to a door. I pushed it open, and I gazed in at the brightly colored room. There was a bed in the corner, and a bookcase in another. The room was a mixture of greens and yellows and reds. A quick sniff of the air and I could smell overpowering everything else the smell of my protector. The lab had no smell- because it was sterilized- and the house had a faint flowery smell. This room smelt of Neville Robert. I gazed around the room slowly before stepping in, moving towards the bed, lightly sitting upon it. I stared at the bookcase and the pictures on top. Standing so I could reach, I pulled the picture of my protector clutching a girl and smiling up at me so I could view it. Neville Robert looked so much better in this than he did now. Here he looked peaceful, whereas now he looked haunted. His daughter looked like him, with the same jaw, the same eyes, the same forehead. I sighed and placed the photo back down in the same place I had left it. The bookcase was filled with books. I pulled at one and held it in front of me. The title stared up at me.

'Snow White'. I stared at it, my eyes wide.

--

"_I'll take you away with me, Chihiro."_

"_Me? Why? Not Lana?"_

"_I want to. You remember that story, don't you, Chihiro? Snow White and the Seven Dwarves? Snow White was a beautiful girl, but she was forced to do the same things you are. But then her Prince comes and saves her, doesn't he? Here's your Prince, Chihiro. Be my Snow White Queen."_

--

Gasping, I leant over, my hands on my knees. It was hard to breathe now. I forced the air into my lungs in deep gasps.

--

"_I'm going in for treatment."  
_

"_Treatment?" _

"_I didn't want to tell you like this, my dearest. I have cancer."_

"_You.. you're dying?"  
_

"_It was terminal. But there's a cure. Dr. Krippin made a cure. We can be together, stronger than ever. I'm going in tomorrow morning, and I'll come out tomorrow afternoon a better man for you, Chihiro."_

"_Is it safe?"_

"_It's the trial testing, that's why I can afford it. Likelihood, no, but since I'm dying anyway it doesn't matter." _

"_God, Kevin, when were you going to tell me?"_

"_Same time you were going to tell me you got that tattoo."_

"_Tattoo?"  
_

"_The Butterfly on your back. It's final, Chihiro. I'm going in for the treatment."_

"_You're seventeen!"_

"_And you're fourteen. I'm old enough to make this decision- my grandmother has already approved. It's going to happen."_

--

I was on the floor now, tears streaming down my face once more. My chest was constricted, my heart felt like it was up in my throat, and it felt like I could not get warm. I rubbed my arms, hoping the friction would provide the warmth I desperately wanted. Feeling sick, I forced myself up and out of the room. I couldn't be in there any longer- not with that damn book in there. I quickly moved down the stairs and sat on the couch, my eyes focused on the screen, desperate to forget what had just occurred.

I don't know how much time had gone past when the door opened, but I knew that the video had played through itself three times since I had sat there.

"Hey, you there?"

"Yes," I called back without thinking, as some sort of reflex that I now had that I previously didn't. I listened to him stiffen. And I winced. The tension was so thick that I could carve it up as a Sunday roast.

"You.. understood?"

"Yeah." I heard hurried footsteps and I turned my head to face the slightly sweaty (and exhausted looking) Neville Robert, staring at me as if I was an alien. He moved quickly to sit beside me, and instantly I felt repelled. He was coated in the smell of sweat. I backed away, to the edge of the seat.

"Tell me. What do you remember?"

"Yes. No. Hello. '_We're going to do some reading today, kids! With us today we have Toby Peterson, five years old, and he's going to read 'Three little pigs' for us today! Isn't that exciting?'" _

He raised an eyebrow, before glancing at the 'idiot box'. The yellow bird- Big Bird, as I now knew him as- was saying the same thing I had just said. He turned and stared at me. "Amazing. Your speech is still a little slurred, consistent with years of no social contact. Vocal chords are probably getting used to normal speech again. So, you don't remember anything. Anything at all? But you can understand me?"

I stared at him, before lowering my gaze. He nodded. "It's alright. This is a good first step. I'm proud of you." I looked up and he was grinning again. He patted me on the shoulder and I flinched slightly- I was still quite jumpy. He watched me before asking, "You heard the voices last night?"

"Yes." I whispered, my voice cracking. I felt myself breakdown at that moment, falling into his strong arms, even with the over-powering stench of sweat dripping from every pore of his body. His arms slowly fell about my shoulders which heaved with sobs.

"Shh." He crooned. "It's okay. Everything will be alright." He tightened his arms around me, and I slowly inched myself into his lap, his fingers rubbing my scalp soothingly. My eyes were fogged and blurred. I couldn't see anymore, and I realized I was crying as tears began to run down my cheeks. "You'll be okay."

"Why?" I choked out.

"Because I'll protect you."

--

The day had passed slowly.

I had spent most of the time watching my protector fiddle with things in the lab- checking readouts and his computers as he called them. He'd on occasion come back to me, speaking in a hushed voice as he took blood, saliva, earwax, and even urine (which was very embarrassing). I stretched, perched up on the metal table, my eyes on him as he worked, moving like a cobra. His watch beeped and we were instantly brought back to reality, and I stiffened. Did this mean we would have to go to sleep soon?

He glanced over towards me and whispered, "It's okay. It's just reminding me to do something." His voice was reassuring, but I still felt trapped and isolated- the cold hard truth that night was approaching hit me like a sack of bricks. He motioned for me to follow him, and I jumped at the chance. I moved to stand behind him and he held a syringe out for me to see. Knowing what my part in this was, I held out my hand and he took some blood. He turned back, setting the computer to do something before turning back to me. "Thanks. Just going to run an analysis of your blood." He patted me on the head, before motioning for me to follow him again. We moved up towards the house proper, and I watched him as he closed the windows and slid the large panels of metal across them. The rooms were now swamped with artificial light. He turned to me and sighed.

With a swift movement, he leaned down and turned the lamp off. With the absence of the dull light the room brightened and I could see every single detail (from the dust motes to the tiny threads in the carpet) tinted with a deep blue. I gazed in awe about the room, before my eyes rested on my protector. His skin shone brightly, flowing like water. I sucked in a deep breath, awed by his magnificence as I moved towards him.

"what is it?" He asked. I slowly moved towards him and once I was within reach, I raised a hand to gently touch his face. "What's wrong?"

I shook my head, slightly bewildered. I moved away from him, preparing to go downstairs to the lab when he grabbed my arm. I looked back at him, my breath hitching in my throat at his glowing form. The room was silent, and above my own heart hammering in my chest and my harsh breathing, I could hear his heart, loud and strong in my ears. He sighed, before leading me up the stairs, to the other part of the house.

"I've got some more things to do. I'll be with you in a little bit." He said as he moved me down the hall that I had been in hours previous, until we reached a closed door. I stared. Was this the room I was in hours ago? As he opened it, I realized that, no, this wasn't the room. This room was more dully colored, and a large double bed lay in the center, up against the wall. "Stay here tonight. There's a beanbag in the corner you may use." I glanced around the room- and sure enough, there was a large blob sitting in the corner, swathed in blankets and swimming with pillows. I gazed back at him and he nodded. "I'll be a minute."

I grunted and took hold of his arm. He turned towards me, his face curious yet slightly anxious. I was too. "Why?"

"I don't want you to be alone." Was his answer, and he hurriedly moved out the door with Sam quick on his heels. I looked around the room for a few moments before slowly moving towards the beanbag, slowly clambering onto it, sinking into the comfortable material. I closed my eyes, leaning back into the fluffy pillows, listening to the sounds of my protector moving about and shutting metal doors, underpinned by my breathing. I counted each breath, and it was four hundred and eighty seven breaths later that my protector came back.

He must have thought I was asleep, because he slowly crawled into his large double bed, falling onto the sheets. We were silent. I counted twenty more of his more relaxed breaths, and then the screaming started.

I tried to stay still, tried to force myself to sleep. But no matter how hard I tried to block out the sound, I could hear it, stronger than I had the other night. I could hear the call. For a brief, split second, I wished I could be out there, amongst the stampede. After seventy four howls, I pulled myself up and crawled (with a blanket around my shoulders) towards Neville Robert, my breathing harsh. As soon as I was up on the bed he sat up, his eyes on me. "Are you alright?" He whispered. Forgetting that he couldn't see that well in the dark I shook my head, and crawled so I was curled up against his side.

He watched me for a few seconds, before curling an arm around my shoulder, holding me tight to his strong, muscular body. He laid back down, and I pressed my ear as hard as I could into his chest to hear the thundering of his heart, to drown out all the other sounds. I felt the bed move slightly and I realized that Sam had climbed up on it too, and she curled up next to my legs, her reassuring aroma wafting over us and cloaking us in its safe blanket, one that only myself and Sam realized was there.

I watched the ceiling for a few moments, listening to the powerful thundering heart of my protector, before thinking, maybe I would be safe. Maybe it was safe to go to sleep.

--

**Read and review guys. Your reviews keep me going.**


	3. One Week

**Authors Note: I'm responding to a question posed during the last chapter.**

**The protagonist has, at most, next to no memories of her past life, infected or otherwise. Her dreams are, to her, important, yet she cannot even begin to fathom their meaning. She fears them, perhaps greatly, but doesn't try to understand what they are (except here..). Basically, she's a shell. She has no idea who she is, what she is, or about anything. As such, she has no concept of embarrassment or of nudity. In the first chapter she didn't understand why it was wrong of her to pull her pants and shirt off, but when she was asked to pee into a cup, she had to deal with Robert (or Neville Robert, as she calls him) being highly embarrassed. While she herself is very intuitive, she could sense Roberts discomfort at asking her to pee into a cup. He had no idea what to expect from her, so, hence his nervousness. And embarrassment when she simply pulled her pants down and did it there.**

**See, if I was to write any of this, everyone would get very angry and people would start flaming. See, I doubt ANYONE wants to read about someone peeing into a cup as little as I want to write it. Hence, it's not in the chapter. It's referenced, and the audience has to merely assume. Because I am by God not writing anything like that. Sex at the start of this chapter. If you don't want to see it, leave it be. Not very descriptive, though.**

**I originally had this all planned out, this fic. Yet, upon the realisation of the ending I began to question why I had to continue writing it, and, to keep myself writing it (apparently it's good, according to some of the reviews I've received, and some people I've spoken to..) I've scrapped the end and let it write itself. I will spoil you this- the original ending everyone was supposed to die. So, I think I'm glad I'm changing it...**

**I'm sorry for the large leave of absence and the delay of the chapter. I had Writers Block and I didn't... feel like writing. Until someone rejuvenated that desire.**

**--**

_It was warm, where they lay. _

_His muscled arms were gently curved around her form, providing comfort and reassurance. Her left ear was pushed into his chest, and all she could hear was his thundering heart beat, pounding steadily to the beat of a primal drum. Her eyes were focused on his, two black luminous orbs inside a pale, gaunt face. A hand, detached from her own reached up to caress his chin and the corners over his mouth twitched. Her mate slowly rolled over, a rumble arising in his throat, the deep baritone warding off all other predators. His pale, strong arms encompassed her tiny form, and, dwarfed by him she curled up closer to his side, her own arms wrapped around his waist._

_Their skin was still sweaty and pliant, yet the fast and hurried race towards ecstasy had served only to relax them, letting them lie back into their nest and enjoy the warmth of each other. She felt his hand trail down her lean back, to circle the butterfly tattoo once, before descending to roll her over onto her front once more, his strong, coarse hands lifting her up by the hips. They met together, engaging in a ritual that has been forever performed throughout time, their once hushed and quiet breathing returning to the harsh labored breathing of the powerful animals they were. Her mate growled into her back, the vibration making her in turn groan, and as his tongue flicked out to lap at the light blue colored butterfly tattoo she found herself screeching hoarsely in animalistic bliss._

_With a final roar, her mate subsided, and, sated he let himself lightly relax on top of her, resting on her lithe back..._

_--_

... With speed unprecedented I shot upright, my heart pounding high in my chest. The sun was up, that I could tell, the sun filtering in through the curtains of the bedroom, making visible the dust motes that danced together in the air, in the never-ending waltz of time. I felt a muscled arm slowly encircle my waist, and silently I moved back into the pillows, huddling closer to my protector, he who kept me warm and comfortable, safe in the terrifying nights.

I rubbed at my eyes with my snow white hands, hoping to rub the horrible yellow gunk from the corners of them. From beyond the glass window I could hear the birds twittering, gleeful little melodies sung high and loud, perched on top of whatever was out there. Trees, my protector had called them. Trees. Tall, brown and green natural spires that lurched into the blue sky. I lightly stretched and settled myself further into his grasp, making sure to nuzzle my head into his chest. It had become his custom- every day, at about five in the morning my protector would wake, and open the large steel windows to let the sun shine through, letting it filter through the curtains to shine upon our bodies. Why was a mystery.

We slept together, now. It had been a week since my awakening, and my protector, Neville Robert had discovered that without the sound of his beating heart overpowering the screeches of those things I heard at night, I would become a danger to both myself and him. The long cut along one side of his neck was now a testimony to that. The second night after my awakening that I slept alone, I hurt the one person that protected me, the one person that protected me and guided me.

As the protector in question stretched, the device resting on a black band on his arm began to beep, and wincing I muttered how I hated the device. In the single week I had been awake, I had learnt so much, discovered so many things. I even learnt how to juggle, but most of all to hate the sound that damnable device made. As my protector shifted my crimson eyes moved to gaze upon him, his dark eyes already focused on my face.

"Good morning," he murmured, his arms snaking away from my small body for him to stretch.

"G'morning," I whispered back, the greeting he taught me for some reason feeling alien to my lips, almost like ash on my tongue. My protector smiled as he usually did when I spoke, and he raised a dark hand to my head, rustling the very short white hair that had grown there. He moved, swinging his muscled legs over the edge of the cloth-covered bed, before raising himself to his full height. He stretched, before slowly padding out of the room, signaling the start of our morning routines. His routine I knew very well, since mine was based closely around it. I carefully stood, testing out my thin legs, reassuring myself they wouldn't collapse on me as they sometimes did, before moving to go about my routine- Sam hot on my heels.

As per my morning ritual, I would start a bath for myself, gazing out of the window, viewing the street and the world beyond the warm, safe house. When the water reached a suitable level, steam billowing up to meet my naked form, I'd lower myself into it, hissing slightly at the hot water, yet relaxing moments after as the hot water relaxed my tense muscles. Sam would sit beside me, her wet nose digging into the palm of my pale hand, short puffs of air creeping out of her nose to embrace the other air particles surrounding us, before being sucked back in, to be kept safe inside her nose. As I listened to each of the birds singing, I watched lazily the animals that roamed the tree that had grown just a few meters from the window. Its' bright brown bark was as smooth as the tables in my protectors under-place, and the leaves were a bright green, looking velvety soft in texture.

I raised my head, my hands cupping the soapy water to pour over my small form.

The dreams were getting stranger, now. As I learned more during the day the dreams became more real- more tangible, so much so I felt I could reach out and catch the nightmares, shove them in a jar and gaze upon them like a child would fireflies.

I laid back, my scarlet eyes focusing on the dust motes that danced above me, swaying to music that I could not hear. Thinking back on my life since my awakening, I had swiftly changed from horrible books for children to the more.. mature ones that I craved. Reading seemed natural, now, even though it felt alien. As if I had the skills before, as if they had been deeply ingrained in part of my mind they began to surface- basic conversation was now as easy as throwing a ball. In one week, I had learnt many objects around the house, I had learnt the names of various animals and how to use something Neville Robert called a "DVD player". Whatever it was, I could press one button, a tray would open, I'd place a disk-like thing in the tray, close the tray and then watch the tool that taught me the most, which seemed to be to the disdain of my protector. This.. "Idiot box", as he called it, despite his discomfort was an excellent learning tool. According to my protector.

My protector... I shifted, one of my hands gently running fingers through Sams' hair and the other making swirling patterns in the sud-filled water. As if on cue, my protector called out, and I knew instantly that breakfast was ready. My stomach growling in anticipation, I lifted myself out of the water, and quickly pulled one of my protectors' shirts' on, followed by some pants he'd found, although where, I have no idea.

I descended the stairs, the smell of egg and toast rising up to greet me, powerful and pungent. A hand on the wall, I slowly made my way towards the kitchen, where breakfast awaited my hungry mouth. It was as it was every morning; two glasses, two forks, a carton of drink of some description, and a steaming plate, filled with food, exactly the same. Egg, toast, and some light meat. At his usual place, opposite mine, sat my protector, his elbows on the table, his hands obscuring surely what was a smirk on his face.

"Good bath?"

"Good." I echoed, and his grin widened. I slowly sat in my seat, fidgeting slightly before picking up the plastic fork, diving it into the yellow pillow depths of the egg. The air felt soft today, gentle almost. There was little water in the air, and the day was a moderate temperature. It was, in my protectors terms, _"a fucking nice day"_.

"You're really howing into those eggs of yours." Neville Robert commented, and I merely gazed at him, in the middle of a bite. He was merely sitting there, gazing at me with those observing eyes of his. He hadn't touched his food yet. I swallowed and nodded.

"They're good," I replied, my hawk-like eyes watching him carefully. Why wasn't he eating? After a few moments I gently placed my fork down, and straightened myself. He wanted to talk. "Yes?"

"You're speech is improving, that's good. That's real good." He assured me, a soft smile on his gentle face. "I'm proud of your progress."

"'Something wrong?"

"Something wrong?" He watched me guiltily for a few moments. I lowered my head and nervously began to play with a loose string on my shirt, feeling the fibers of the fabric run through my fingers. "You're progressing very well.. I'll run a few tests today, reaction, endurance, that sort of thing. Then.. well.. I don't know."

"Don't know?"

"I was thinking of taking you outside.. I mean, you've been cooped up in here for a week, you must be itching to stretch your legs." I stared at him. He meant.. go outside? Where the animals and the sun was? Where the trees were, almost begging, calling out to me to be climbed? Where fields of grass lay, stretching further than my eyes could possibly hope to see, free for me to run in? No.. it was an impossible dream. In those few seconds, I doubted him, and hideously I muttered,

"Right."

In the most sarcastic and contemptuous tone I could have ever mustered. He seemed in that moment almost repelled- looking up at him I watched as my protectors' eyes widened, a look of shock and hurt filtering onto his face. I felt as if I had been slapped, the way he looked. I lowered my head, biting my bottom lip as I was apt to do when I was nervous, scared, or.. mortified. Much how I was now- not at him, but at myself.

I hadn't previously thought myself capable of such an acidic emotion. The remnants of the look on his face becoming like a sick cow in my brain. I breathed in harshly, the air rattling around in my windpipe as if what I was breathing were useless, unusable.

"I'm sorry you feel that way." He muttered, and I stared down into my breakfast. I felt heat rise into my face, most prominently into my ears, and instantly it felt as if my head were on fire. Raising a hand to my cheeks, I felt the flushed skin underneath my sensitive fingertips.

"What..?"

"You're blushing." I looked up, and my protector nodded at me, gently. "Typical response to negative emotional stimuli. Particularly guilt. Other possible emotions would be amused, angry, sad, horrified, embarrassed, aroused.."

"Aroused?"

He stared at me dumbly for a few minutes, before coughing into his dark hand. He began eating, appearing ravenous now. After a few mouthfuls he looked back up and said, "I ain't givin' you 'The talk'. Eat."

I did as he suggested, and started to gulp down the rapidly cooling egg and meat. "What's 'The talk'?" I asked between mouthfuls, and, startled, I looked up at the sound of him choking. He bore a pained expression on his face, one of his dark hands covering his mouth as he gagged, giving way to hard coughing, blood rushing to his face, making the skin flushed and darker. I felt my head tilt, and then bow at his icy stare.

"I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"It's not right." He said, shaking his bald head. "I'm sorry you don't believe me. I promise you this, we'll go out today. All three of us."

"Outside..?" I whispered, my hand gripping the fork tighter, the skin over my knuckles becoming impossibly white. I almost felt a smile spread across my face. With a short laugh, I made him promise. "Promise?"

"Of course. I promise." We comfortably went back to our meal, the uneasiness dissipating with great ease from the conversation and from ourselves. He'd promised-- and he hadn't lied as of yet. I had no reason to believe he'd ever lie to me, as he was my protector, the only person I could trust.. In the entire world.

"Will others be out there?" I asked, and at his reaction I immediately wished I hadn't. Looking up at him, his face paled considerably, and he placed his fork down on his plate, dabbing at his mouth with a napkin obviously finished even though he'd barely eaten.

"There are no others." He whispered, his normally loud voice seeming suddenly dull in my sensitive ears. I felt myself stare, my blood red eyes going wide at his declaration. Even with my lack of knowledge, how he was by far superior to myself.. the things I had read and seen on that damnable square box had shown me that there weren't just two people living in a large house in this place. That there were billions, and even though it was a number that I couldn't comprehend, and had no hope to, it inspired awe to swell in my breast when I thought about it. And now.. no others?

"No others," I echoed, and he shook his head and sighed, his elbows moving to rest on the dark wood table, his hands hiding his mouth from my sight. The room seemed bitterly cold now, the air that I breathed in feeling like ice as it ran down my windpipe and into my lungs. Why did everything become so cold so suddenly? Goosebumps were beginning to rise on my skin, and I felt overly uncomfortable sitting on the wooden chair.

"I don't know if I should tell you."

"Tell me what?"

He sighed, and rubbed the top of his bald head tiredly. "You.. There was a doctor, named Alice Krippin. She was, ultimately, working for the betterment of humanity but it backfired. You try to play God and something bad will happen to dissuade you from doing it again. She tried to cure cancer, the uncontrollable reproduction of cells, which ends with the death of a person. She thought she could cure it with an altered virus."

"It.. didn't work..?" I felt unbelievably ill in those few moments. All of this seemed so... familiar, sickly familiar. This feeling.. It reminded me of that one film my companion had shown me, in black and white, which then turned to colour. I cannot remember the name to save my life, yet, I remember the little black dog, and the girl, in her dress. It reminded me of how.. dull the world seemed. In an instant my world became black and white, and for an instant I felt almost detached from the world, merely an observer in a world of black and white.

"For a while, it did. The people who were injected with what is now the KV were cured completely of cancer. And then, a few weeks afterward.. They all began changing. Turning into creatures that killed without remorse. Aggressive beasts, all resemblance to the humans they once were completely destroyed. They were contained, for a short period of time at Ground Zero, before the virus became air-born. Then, in an astounding 24 hours, 90 percent of the population that were infected were killed, including Doctor Krippin, killed by her '_genius_'." He spat the word, almost, his tone becoming more bitter the further he spoke. My breath merely hitched in my throat. "Only 2 percent of humanity was immune. There were 6 billion people on the planet. 12 million of that 6 billion were immune. That's 12 million people like you, and me. Healthy. The other _five hundred and eighty-eight million_ that was left of the _human race _became monsters. They got hungry, and they went and fed and burned through the 12 million healthy people left. _We're the last people in New York, possibly the world_. D'you understand!?" He ended his tirade, standing angrily, his entire large form quaking with an emotion I had never felt. I merely sat, dumbfounded, my thin hands gripping tightly the chair I sat on. He no longer faced me, his normally tall and proud stature slightly hunched now, his shoulders shaking with the powerful emotion.

"I can help. I can save you. I can save everybody." He whispered. "This is Ground Zero. This is my site. I can fix it. I can fix this." I watched him as he slammed his fists angrily down on the counter infront of him, turning to me harshly. His eyes took on a crazed appearance, glazing over slightly, and for a few moments I was afraid, my heart thumping high in my chest. "I have. I've fixed this."

"You've... fixed it..?" I realised at this point in time how familiar this sounded. Thinking back on it, I realised that only a few days ago did he mention the same things. I chided myself mentally for being the fool and not paying attention.

He stopped himself at that moment, gazing at me thoughtfully, the crazed look disappearing. "Kind of," he whispered, before slowly sitting down, eating his now cold eggs with renewed vigor.

"There's... no one."

"No. Now, finish eating. We've got a big day ahead of us." Feeling sick, I did as he asked and returned to my meal, the normally soft and gorgeous tasting eggs turning to ash in my mouth. Still, I swallowed the food down ravenously, my eyes constantly on the man sitting across from me. So, he was, in truth my protector. The truth, now that I knew it, was what he had previously sought to protect me from. The truth that everyone else was dead and that he and I were the only ones alive.

And what horrified me, the emotion that shortly swamped me after the cold realisation.. was that I didn't care. I didn't care that the rest of humanity was dead- I didn't know them, nor did I care to. I found myself in that moment cursing myself. I was one person. There were... 6 billion, before, were there not? And, now, all were dead. Except for my protector. And myself. I found myself thankful for that, at least.

".. Are you alright?" I heard my protector ask me, and, startling myself out of my reverie, I nodded. I looked back down into my food, and stared at it for a few moments. There was.. something horribly wrong with what he had said. In a week I had learnt so much, when before I had known nothing. How was this possible? Shouldn't I remember these events, too? Infact, a whole lifetime of events? And what were the dreams I continuously had? What were they, things I witnessed each night speaking of less innocent things.. Of the same two people, each night. Someone.. normal- looking like the other people around her, and then, some_thing_.. looking.. horrific, yet again, looking the same as those around it.

"What did they look like?" I found myself asking. I looked up to watch as my protector stared at me. He swallowed the last of his food before standing.

"I'll show you," he muttered, before taking the dishes, sitting them beside the sink on the counter. I followed him, my eyes focused on a spot between his shoulders at the back of his neck. My protector had never sounded as he did minutes earlier. With such _hate_ in his voice, it chilled me to the bone. I watched him idly as he unlocked the door leading towards the basement, towards the room in which I had awoken. As we descended the stairs, my bare feet making soft slapping sounds on the concrete, my protector muttered to me to wash my hands before going in. I copied his motions, turning the tap on, rubbing my hands together before turning it back off, wiping my hands on a cloth as he had done. I followed him into the room, curious. I had gone into this place before and that was never done before, when entering this room.

"Come over here," He motioned to me, and we moved closer towards the see-through wall room. I felt myself grow weary. Would he put me in there? For asking too many questions? I mentally reprimanded myself for those thoughts, confused at where they had come from. My protector had never given me reason to be paranoid, had he?

No, we didn't move into the see-through wall room. Instead, we moved to stand in front of a wall, covered with layers upon layers of pictures."These are pictures I have taken of various specimens of the Infected." He told me, and I gazed at them all, before my eyes widened in shock.

I... had seen all of these before. I had seen all of these people before. In my dreams, my nightmares, whatever you could call them. These.. were the infected? The.. creatures in my dreams were the same as these. They looked alike, and I could even recognise a few of them. I glanced down at the table infront of the wall and stared.

There.. was a picture. A woman strapped to the table, snarling, her jaw stretching unbelievably, showing her elongated teeth. She was snapping at whoever was behind the view of the picture itself. I stared, however, my eyes wide. I reached a hand down and picked it up, bringing it closer to my face, in the hopes that I was possibly wrong.

To my horror, I wasn't. I'd seen _this _woman, too. I bit my lip. I'd seen this woman more than I had seen any other, and at times through her eyes. Her eyes were freakishly blood red, large, yet angled at the ends, unlike my protectors. Her jaw was well pronounced, as was her forehead and her cheekbones. Infact, she almost looked like-- My head whipped back to glance at Neville Robert, and finding him facing the other way, fiddling with something I quickly pocketed the picture, hiding it in one of the holes in the fabric of my pants.

I turned around, and faced my protector. He hadn't seen anything, and for that I was thankful. It would be the first thing I'd keep from him, that I knew, but I couldn't admit it to myself. I didn't want to. I raised an arm, and gently rested a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head slightly and smiled at me. "Have hope," I whispered. I had read the same words in a small book my protector had, hidden in his room. It had other phrases in there that were appropriate, yet I couldn't remember them. It was titled, "1001 inspirational words and phrases," resting right beside another called "the little book of calm". He turned completely to me, and gently wrapped his arms about my shoulders, pulling me close to his warmth, and I savoured the tactile contact. I hated the distance. It made me feel alienated.

For him, I could feel in his muscles, it was strange, to hold someone. His muscles were slightly tense, rigid, as if he were a wall of stone. I gently wrapped my arms around his middle, and rested my cheek against his chest, listening to the sound of his heart pounding steadfast. For him, my protector, I felt a strange peace. He alone could make my worries vanish, and yet, contradicting that he was one of the main contributers to my worries and sorrows. The news he gave me not ten minutes ago was proof of that. And the picture resting in my pocket..

"We should get moving. Not enough hours in the day, my friend." He said, and I felt warm, suddenly. My face felt warm, and so did my stomach. I could tell I was blushing again, and his incredulous expression only confirmed it. "What's with the blush?"

"You called me 'My friend'. You haven't called me anything before." I whispered, settling nicely into his arms, not wanting to move from the warmth.

"You do need a name.." My protector muttered, one of his hands lazily rubbing my back between the shoulders.

"You don't know mine?"

"No.." I couldn't help the bubble of disappointment rise up in me, threatening to choke me. I pushed it down, and closed my eyes, trying to shut out the horrible thoughts that threatened to consume me. About that _damned _picture, about that _damned woman.._

--

_The moon was bright and high in the night sky. The streets were far from empty- filled with cars and trucks, littering the concrete and pavement. Up high, on one of the tallest buildings lay a creature, panting and crying out with pain. This creature was tall, that much could be discerned from it's long legs and long arms, the arms wrapped about it's own stomach and it's legs spread, ever so slightly. The female was struggling with something, perhaps even nature itself as it cried out, it's features screwed up in torrential pain. She was clothed in nothing, her albino white skin shining in the pale moonlight, the sweat beading on her skin causing the light to bounce off the small beads in showers of colour and light. Beside this female creature writhing on a bed of cloth, crouched a male, his dark eyes focused entirely on the female writhing beside him. One of his hands was gently resting on her left shoulder, the other resting gently over the females on her stomach. His eyes were almost pained as he watched his mate writhe on the rooftop, surprise becoming the dominant emotion when she let out a piercing scream, mingled with the cries of another, far younger being..._

_--_

I opened my eyes, an odd sense of calm washing over me in the few seconds of my reawakening. Usually I'd be confused and almost distraught, horrified, yet this time I felt more at ease. Coming out of the dream, I looked up at my protector to see him staring down at me in a confused and worried manner. I raised a hand to gently touch his chin, running my pale white fingers over his dark smooth skin.

"You alright..? You.. seemed a little out of it for a second.."

So. The dream had lasted only a second. Perhaps this was a vision I had often heard about, read about in books. Yet the visions I'd heard about were usually of the future, and, for some reason I couldn't shake the feeling this one was about the past. I, however, forced a smile upon my face, and I felt myself utter my second deception.

"I'm fine."

--

The tests my protector had spoken of, the 'endurance' and the 'reaction' tests, were in the end, avoided, possibly to my relief. We had merely stood in the room my protector called "the lab", my red eyes focused on his brown ones, and his focused on mine. It was just a few moments, yet I knew were minutes- it was impossible to calculate, as I gazed into my companion's luminous eyes, trying to fathom what went on in those glorious depths. I could see thought almost swimming inside his eyes, hypnotizing in its' fluidity. The moment, as all moments are, was broken, by the sudden, harsh beeping from his watch, located on his left arm. We both glanced down, seemingly in sync, both of us grimacing at the metallic object.

He sighed, and with a graceful movement, switched it off, the harsh beeping no longer ringing in my ears. I only hated the sound because it was sharp, loud and high pitched, intermittent by only a second. It annoyed me, like various other sounds did. The microwave beeping, was another, but didn't annoy me so much as the watch did, especially in the early hours of the morning, when I was barely awake. To have that drum into my head.. I shook my head at my protector and he chuckled.

"You still don't like it?" He asked, as if reading my mind. It was curious how he always managed to, managed to know how and what I was thinking, even the train of thought I was on, just by watching me for just a few seconds.

"No," I replied, letting a slight grumble enter my voice- something which was of usual raspy and monotone. I might not have liked the damnable watch, but in those few moments I loved it, knowing that we had somewhere else to be, and would be late, interrupting my companion's pre-meditated schedule, which was something my protector despised. He hated his schedule being ruined.

"You'll get used to it. I promised you I'd take you outside today, so I will keep my promise. The tests will have to wait for a later date." I grumbled at this, my right nostril crinkling, as if something distasteful wafted up the nasal passage, stimulating my sense of smell, which my protector had said was 'enhanced', whatever that meant. "Don't snark at me," my protector muttered in a sarcastic tone, one of his hands soothingly rubbing the small of my back, "it's something that's got to be done, alright?"

"Why the tests? Is there something wrong with me?" I asked, focusing on the sound of his heartbeat as it slowly began to race. I raised a hand, and gently placed it against the center of his chest, just above his bright warm core. "You beat faster.."

"That's my heart.. You can hear that... even from there?"

"Yes." _I can hear it from across the room, _was the unspoken reply, my heart desperately warring my mind to let the words leech themselves from my pale lips. Yet, as silent as the grave, I let my hands and fingers run over the contours of his chest, almost fascinated by the muscles underneath the rather large shirt he wore. My protector was very large, very strong. I could almost feel it in every breath, the way his muscles moved in tandem with his lungs, pulsing under my fingertips. I stared up into his black face, almost searching for something in his eyes. "Am I sick?" I questioned, watching my own piercing red gaze in the reflection of his smooth brown eyes.

"You're not well." My companion muttered, and again I felt his heartbeat begin to race.

"Not well.. I don't feel.. 'not well'." I muttered, staring at my hands splayed on his chest, deathly white against the brown, coarse fabric.

"I'm trying to find out why you can't remember anything, why you've got no pigmentation. But let's not worry about that right now. I've got a promise to fulfill. Come on. Let's see New York, huh?"

--

New York, as he called it, wasn't as beautiful as I thought it would be.

The street outside the windows lied about the truth of the world- outside his windows, nothing was out of place, and everything was immaculate, perfect in every way, how the leaves fell on the ground, how they were situated on the trees, how the birds knew the precise places to sit that let them bask in the sun all day long. But... outside of this impossibly small space, this small street, looking about one could see how delapitated the buildings were, how they became unkempt, grass breathing the morning air through cracks in the large concrete my protector called 'road'. Yet, the concrete and glass spires shot up into the sky, proud as if they would stand to live a hundred lifetimes. Yet, the windows were unkempt, dirty and filthy, a layer of grime coating the inside and outside layers. I could see cracks in so many walls, and even some buildings had begun to collapse, others already collapsed, for reasons unknown. Yet, as proud as they were they wouldn't stoop so low as to help another building in pain, would they? The buildings themselves reminded me of the people I had read about, of the people my protector often told me about. He had once said that he used to have pride in the human race. That now, he didn't, was of great interest to me, and the revelation during breakfast, the knowledge of the KV and Dr Krippin.. it made sense as to why he would think that. He'd spoken of how they poluted the planet- whatever poluted meant. Of how they, instead of seeking renewable energy, they kept pumping Carbon Dioxide into the atmosphere. And at those remarks, I would tilt my head and ask him what they meant. And, he'd gently pull me aside and say, calmly, that it was slightly too advanced for me. As if talking to a child. Perhaps, I was a child. I had no knowledge of the world around me, and I had to be taught, practically from the bottom up. How would I know anything about terms such as 'renewable energy' or 'carbon dioxide'? That's right. I don't. I have no clue. And I doubt he'd tell me, so cautious, my companion is, to reveal to me the true natures of the world we inhabit.

This world, this place he called New York wasn't as beautiful as what I'd seen and read about. I'd imagined buildings a hundred thousand people tall, made entirely out of glass- glass spires glimmering in the shining daylight and reaching towards the stars. But, I didn't see any of that. Not at all.

Turning around to face my protector, I watched as he laboured over a pump, lifting the lever up and down repeatedly in a rhythm that seemed to be set in habit, a movement having been repeated for so long it seemed natural, yellow light from the sun (which I basked in the warmth of) streaming over his features. I watched him for a few moments, the sweat pouring down his face, almost the same as when he was exercising, on the machine that made the ground move, and I watched as he straightened up, wiping his brow, letting out puffs of air in what I could tell was exhaustion. I moved closer towards him and muttered, "You're tired."

"Yeah. Still got 60 litres to go, though." He grumbled at this, almost, before beginning to bend back down to the pump. In a movement that even I could barely register, my arm shot out and gripped the handle of the pump, and with a single arm I pushed down as hard as I could, pulling up again in a rhythm much like his. Yet, his grip was two handed, and, staring at me in shock, my companion watched as I did his task with relative ease, with one hand. It was a relatively hot day, I could tell, with the sun blaring down from above onto the back of my neck and bare head, and yet I found that the heat didn't bother me so much as it did my companion- he was sweating until his shirt was damp and I was barely bothered. Why was I so different..?

"That's a heavy lift.. how the hell are you doing that?" I raised an eyebrow as I tilted my head up to look at him. The expression on his face was almost incredulous, as if what I was doing was somehow hard. "You've retained a lot of the physical deformities..." He muttered to himself, and I snapped up straight, staring him in the eyes.

"Deformities? Retained? What.. what do you mean?" I watched as he slowly backed away, watching me carefully, scrutinizing me with an eye that I never recalled seeing before.

"I can't give you those answers."

"Why not?"

"I can't tell you."

"Give me reasons why!"

"You wouldn't understand."

I stared at him, my chest suddenly heaving. My lungs in such a small amount of time had shrunk to the size of a small pea, and I could not push enough air into them to make it better. I felt constricted inside- what was this feeling? Why did all of a sudden my insides groan in protest of movement? Why did all of a sudden it become hard to breathe? I knew this feeling, this horrible nightmare I was experiencing. I felt it seconds before I woke for the first time, before light soared under my eyelids. I felt the sensation of being turned inside out moments before waking up, of being forced into an impossibly small space. And I was feeling it again.

Speech seemed impossible, as I sucked air in my lungs. Why will no coherent thought come? I slammed my fist down against the pump, feeling something shatter and break but not caring enough to even think about looking. "Am I not like you? I want a reason! I want to know what the hell is wrong with me!"

"I'm not qualified to give you those answers."

"You said there was no one left. That makes you the most qualified! Now, damnit, give me answers!" Down my hand went, again, slamming into the pump. I watched as my protector winced, and I shook my head, a growl rising in the back of my throat. "Please, I want to know. Why can't I remember anything? Why can't I remember my past? You have a past- you've told me about it many times. Why don't I have one?"

"I don't know. I don't have those answers."

_Stop lying!_, I wanted to scream at him, feeling sweat beginning to bead on my forehead. For some reason I felt too hot, far too hot, as if my blood itself was boiling. Even over my own heartbeat pounding in my ears, I could hear his beginning to beat faster and faster- perhaps faster than my own.

"I need you to trust me."

"Tell me my name."

My protector watched me for a few moments in complete shock. "What...?"

"Tell me my name!" I raised my voice this time, my blood red eyes entirely focused upon his bottomless, brown ones. "I want to know my name." I pointed to Sam, the dog having remained eerilly quiet for the entire time, mimicking my companion's actions and words mere days ago. "This is Sam." I pointed to him and said, "This is Neville Robert." I pointed at myself and cried at him, "This is what? What am I? Who am I?"

"What do you want me to say? I can't give you those answers- I don't know them! I have no clue!"

I turned away from him, my eyes catching on the pump, the metal deformed where my fist had come into contact with it. Only after looking at the pump did I realise the dull ache taking place in my left hand. I lifted my hand to my face and studied it, watching as blood lightly trickled down my hand. I found, that the ache in my hand wasn't the only ache I bore. There was another one, deep, somewhere I couldn't fathom. It was... inside. Deep inside. As if what was my soul was crying out for some kind of resolution.

I no longer faced my protector, my eyes merely observing myself, the clothes I wore, the shoes on my feet. It was high summer, my protector had said, and he'd given me a light brown shirt, some multi-coloured shorts, featuring various greens, olives and browns. The shoes were what he called 'sneakers', yet I recognised them from a magazine I had pilfered from the bookshelf in our sanctuary. They were called 'converses', or something to that effect, and were apparently high in regard with teenagers of the time. Whatever teenagers were. They were nice shoes, fairly comfortable, and somehow wearing them, the black converses, made some kind of sense to me. As if I had worn them before, yet I knew this was the first time I had ever worn shoes.

Although, I had no idea what relevance 'high summer' had in reference to my clothes.

"I know so much and so little. Tell me the truth, please. I'll find out anyway." I pleaded, turned my head slightly to face him. "Why am I so different to you? To the pictures in the books? Why do I have red eyes instead of blue, green and brown? Why do I have white hair instead of brown, yellow and red? Why is my skin the colour of the dead?

"Was I dead?"

--

"_I'm sorry, sir, it won't happen again. I promise," a pleading voice cried out, a pale hand reaching back for the knob or handle of a door, feeling for something, anything that could get it out of the horrific situation it was in._

"_No, it won't. I put food on the table, put food in your stomach, and this is how you pay me back? By spitting it all back in my face?"_

_The girl with long black hair stood up straighter, her fathers defiance creeping into her tone, and cried out indignantly, "I cook your food, I clean your house, and this is how you pay me back? I clean your plate, I wash your clothes, I polish your shoes, _General,_ and you treat me.. you treat me like shit! As if I'm _your _slave!"_

"_But, my dear.." The large, boisterous man leaned forward, his huge, broad shoulders rippling under the soft cloth of his army uniform. His voice, a deep baritone, somehow managed to find it's way through his large mustache and to her ears, the prospect of which humoured the girl to some extent. Yet, try as she might, she couldn't find the will to smile, or even at least laugh, inside in this situation. "You are my slave.. didn't you know? You were sold to me when your mother married me. Look around you, Chihiro. (someone) is probably enjoying yahtzee with the ladies at the club, Kana is grocery shopping and the twins... well, I've always said they were boys after my own heart." The man leaned forward and rested a huge hand on the girls tiny shoulder, an action which she soon would start recoiling from. "You're a tall, young girl. And your mother tells me you've just entered puberty, yes? You'll be growing fast, soon, my dear.. Yes.. You're perfect."_

_Chihiro stuttered backwards, her back coming into contact with the cold, impersonal wall. It was almost comical to her, that she realised now that her bedroom was as cold and impersonal as her mother. Even looking at the walls sent shivers up her spine, and she searched a little more frantically for the blessed door knob. When her 'father' encroached upon her person, strong hands and arms wrapping themselves around her, groping, she renewed her efforts, with greater desperation than before._

_--_

"_Oh god.. Oh god oh god oh god! Chihiro! Chihiro!" _

"_Oh god, Chihiro.. You're going to be alright, you're going to be okay."  
_

"_Shh, save your strength, baby, save your strength. Um, yes, can I please have an ambulance? It's an emergency! Um.. We're in an alley behind an Indian resturaunt- the Taj Mahal, in Queens? I have a 13 year old girl here, bleeding from head to toe. She's.. she's um.. She's losing consciousness, I think, she's.. Oh god, I don't think she's breathing! Chihiro!"_

_--_

**Authors Note: I understand that this is a very abrupt chapter, different from the rest. Yet, as they often do, my writing style has changed slightly with time and practice, and as such, I can present the characters' emotions in new and interesting ways. However, seeing as I do not have a Beta as of yet, I have spent the past few days painstakingly editting this to make it flow easier. Yet, I feel, that the more awkward this fic is, the better it is.**

**You will notice that the female protaganist, while she has significantly grown since the last few chapters, has sort of gone backwards, as well. It is up to audience interpretation. I'm not entirely sure this story even works, and, I'm only continuing it because several people have expressed interest. Please do read and review, and leave as much constructive critism as possible. As I am running without a beta, and without much writing experience to speak of, I'm pretty much flying by the seat of my pants without adequate lighting. As such, I apologise for any literary blunders and if they are pointed out to me, I will very much fix them up as soon as I am able. I hope you have enjoyed this last chapter, and please, contact me with any theories you may have about the direction of the story, of the characters, etc etc. There will be some time jumps, seeing as this part should span about a year, however, I must warn you that there are some very mature themes within this fic relating to sexual abuse, spousal abuse, slavery, physical abuse, and neglect. If you're sensitive to any of these issues, please do not read further, or, do so at your own knowledge. This story is mainly my attempt to a) write to an audience, as I haven't before, and b) explore themes present within my own life. **

**There are three parts total. And I will leave you, readers, and bid you adieu. Please read and review, constructive critism, as I am running in the dark, is very much appreciated, so long there is no flaming or claiming that any of the characters portrayed (I don't own I Am Legend!) are Mary/Gary Sue/Stu's, or, if the characters exhibit those qualities, please notify me at once. I understand that the female protaganist surely does, seeing as she's super strong with super hearing and super sight, etc, etc, but understand where I'm coming from- I'm diving into both universes, of the book and of the movie, going with Vampire lore. And yes, she may not be Infected anymore, but there are reasons as to why she is the way she is. Continue reading and you may, or may not (I have the tendancy of asking people to cut the strongest trees down with Red Herrings) find the answer. Thank you very much for your patience.**

**Sincerely,**

**JCMS.**


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